


Beginnings

by The_Dancing_Walrus



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Ancients, Gen, Genetic Modification, Intelligence tests, Pre-Canon, Wraith, origin of Wraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dancing_Walrus/pseuds/The_Dancing_Walrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a story that Keepers sometimes tell to charges that are of that awkward age, not hatchling or childer. Because all people have a story of how they came to be-</p>
<p>A pre-series fic focusing on the origins of Wraith as an intelligent species.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

The cave was beautiful. The ceiling had collapsed in the centre of the complex some time ago, it must have been a softer patch of rock she supposed, worn away to let the water seep in and form a pool with tussocks of yellow grass and hardy shrubs clinging around its edges and growing in patches on the walls. And from the ceiling-there were hundreds, maybe thousands. The eggs hung from dozens of the webs, too heavy for the usual structures, their soft shells had stretched so thin the light shone through and you could see the foetuses inside. No not foetuses anymore, they were too far gone, children.

 

She smiled up at them. “They look like fruit-”

 

“Thalia-”

 

“Yes, yes alright.” She sighed, tearing her eyes back to the tanks, scanning the equipment quickly. Yes it was in order, of course it was in order, that was what Actis was here for, that and reminding _her_ what they were here for.

 

“There I think,” She decided, gesturing to one of the clusters.

 

She wondered briefly if the insects were more intelligent then they were given credit for since they had always found these kinds of eggs, the mutated ones, closer to the light and unprotected by the swarm. It had hardly mattered for the first few decades after the disaster; the eggs had burst from the weight splattering the floor of the cave with half-dead foetuses that collapsed into themselves. And the ones that had survived had only starved when their limbs formed too twisted to move, or drowned as their mammalian lungs filled with fluids from a corrupted insect circulation. But then they had started to live, more then that to settle, so that now their form was predictable, and survival after hatching almost certain. The humans had told them of course, even if it was gabbled nonsense about faces in the forest, insects that walked on two legs and stole livestock, she hadn’t believed at first and then-She had seen them, slender and silent drifting through the forest, no more then a dozen half-grown individuals. The early hatches. There were always a few that hatched months before the rest of the cluster was due, it was another of the many quirks in the insect’s adaptations that they knew little about. At the moment.

 

“Which ones do you want?” Actis asked, breaking her out of her musing again.

 

“Oh-yes? Whichever ones are easiest thank you Actis I just-” She trailed off; her eyes fixed on the ceiling again making her companion groan inwardly and run a sweaty hand through his short dark hair.

 

Damn Thalia and her bugs.

 

“Those-those eggs, the markings are different what do you suppose that means?”

 

There was no point in her asking him, Actis knew that in the brief space of time it would take for him to concoct a suitable response she would have come up with a better one. She was after all the expert on the insects.

 

And sure enough.

 

“I want those ones, as many as you can find with those markings.”

 

Of course she did, as if the light was good enough in a damp mouldering cave to examine the markings on eight hundred mutated eggs.

 

“Why?” Actis asked trying to keep the bitter edge from his voice; there were more important things in this galaxy than insects.

 

“I think,” Thalia answered with her sweet smile. “They might be females.”

 

******** 

 

There were five of them. In a cluster of seven hundred and twenty three eggs, five females, like a blessing from the Gods of Zoology. It was more than she could have wished for. Five tanks filled with a treasure, more visible everyday as they grew and stretched the soft shells thinner.

 

She measured their weight, the size of the eggs, the volume, the proportion of liquid to foetus, the growth of limbs, the development of organs-

 

They moved in their eggs. Their slender arms batting at the water, their claws, so much like her own hands, opening and closing, like children chasing butterflies. Their eyes moved under eyelids so thin Thalia could see their slit pupils grow and shrink, following dreams.

 

They had all hatched within 36 hours of the eldest, in separate labs scattered across the complex. She should have guessed then really, although it would not have helped.

 

They were beautiful, it was impossible to persuade Thalia otherwise. Somehow when she looked at them she managed not to see the mandibles bursting like bone through cheekbones to cover thin-lipped mouths, the ridges of scales over their arms, the spikes along their curved spines. She saw their wide bright eyes, listened to their chirping, clicking calls and fell a little in love with each of them.

 

If her superiors had been attentive, had been wary, they might have stopped her when she began to name them.

 

But they were optimists, naively charmed by how quickly the language subject picked up basic words and syntax, far faster than the _higher_ human child. Impressed with the behaviourism subject’s agile mind and innovative tools. Startled by the depth of the memory subject’s perception. Puzzled by the scatter-shot results from the perception subject, until it slowly became clear just how differently the insects sensed the world.

 

Destiny is a strange thing. Events most often seem ordained, inescapable, in retrospect when the affected gather together to wonder about life’s accidents. If they had only done. If they had only not done. If they had just said. If they had held their tongue. If they had smiled instead of frowned.

 

Later, when the situation could truly be called a war, the survivors decided amongst themselves on a sticking point. The time where ifs and wishes ended and destiny became fixed. Because after that day with the control subject-

 

Thalia had not come that way often. There was little to learn from the control compared to her brilliant sisters. And she was so busy-

 

Lasas was copying basic sentences and showing a good grasp of the concept of numbers. The data from Alkonost’s latest tests had caused an argument in the lab over whether to promote the insects further up the scala naturae. To the level of Corvidae perhaps. Kivutar had once again shown remarkable innovation and problem solving. Cihuateto’s tests were finally starting to shed some light on the issue of spatial memory, although the vastly differing visible radiation range would almost certainly have to be accounted for in future study. A less intense ultra-violet source perhaps? Followed by a repeat in optimal human conditions and the infra-red regions?

 

She had glanced briefly at the control who stood silent in her pen.

 

She wondered why her assistants had not thought to inform her that their bipedal motion was instinctive. She glanced at the notes on her subject’s pen, noticed that the control was also currently showing a preference for her mammalian digestive system rather then the-

 

When Thalia glanced up the control had been there, so close.

 

But they were predators; it was only instinctive that they should move so silently.

 

The control raised her arms, in a gesture Thalia should have recognised; Alkonost always raised her claws for food-

 

But she had been caught up with a theory concerning the slower rate of mammalian digestion being preferable for the development of young. Thalia had turned away.

 

Perhaps if she hadn’t, if she had reached into the cache and offered the control a small strip of beef, or a live mouse, it wouldn’t have happened. And perhaps then they would have stayed that way, a zoological curiosity, a statistical anomaly. An intelligent insect, no more of a threat then a monkey or a crow.

 

The control chirred in annoyance as Thalia walked away.

 

“Wanna rat.” A small low voice murmured.

 

Thalia turned. The control stared up at her, still holding her hands over her head.

 

Thalia walked back to the pen. She sat, a little heavily, beside it. She dropped a live mouse into the control’s hands and listened as the insect clicked in quick delight.

 

She thumbed a communication line.

 

“Actis, please take the tests Lasas did six months ago and repeat them on the other subjects.”

 

********

 

And suddenly everyone was interested in the insects. Suddenly they weren’t an obscure, accidental mutation. Suddenly experts in every field from Ascension to Xenobiology wanted to study them. Quite suddenly she was fighting to keep test subjects no one had cared about before-

 

Thalia had often wondered in that time at how shallow her people were when it came to other species. They accepted humans as sentient, encouraged them, but how much was that because humans looked so similar? Because their senses, their frame of reference, their expressions were almost identical. Because they were ascetically pleasing. While other creatures, not just her insects, were treated abominably for no reason: other than a displeasing appearance and her own people’s lack of imagination. An imagination so stunted that while it might be able to picture seeing the world through Homid eyes it couldn’t hear it through Delphinidae ears, inhale it through Hyaenidae nostrils, feel it on Cephalopod limbs or taste it on a Siluriformes tongue. That could not summon the courage to view the world in their terms. That could not see that life itself, as its own wondrous accident, was beautiful.

 

And so Cetaceans were kept for amusement, Hyaenidae poisoned as a potential danger to their one acknowledged species. Cephalopods eaten with Siluriformes, and both lucky if they were dead before they were filleted and cooked.

 

Was it any surprise that they had dismissed her insects out of hand? Debated their results, their conclusions at every turn, determined to knock them down to the level of birds and rodents where they belonged, instead of acknowledging that these creatures could outstrip their own children.

 

But now- Now that their tests suggested naturally occurring telepathy, now that it appeared each of the subjects, even the control, could perform the tasks the other’s had, now-

 

Now that these creatures could give them a scrap of insight into their own cultural obsession they _cared_.

 

The argument over whether such creatures were also capable of Ascension was fierce. That their mental link was natural was obvious, but critics pointed out how much weaker it was then in human subjects close to Ascension. To which Thalia replied that telepathic abilities had been linked to ease in Ascension for decades now and her insects showed far more _natural_ untrained telepathic ability then any wild Homid she’d studied.

 

She tired of the debate quickly. She took to secluding herself in the lab with the insects. After all she might not have much time. Her funding would run out and they would decide that _her_ insects were better placed somewhere else-

 

“You’ll be ok.”

 

Thalia smiled. “Yes Lasas, I’ll be ok.”

 

“Want out.”

 

“No,” She sighed. “It’s too late.”

 

“Night now.”

 

“Yes baby, it’s night now. You should sleep, I’ll- I’m going home now.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“Good night Lasas.”

 

“You’ll be in tomorrow.”

 

“Yes I’ll be in tomorrow.”

 

She had headed out into the hallway, worrying about her funding, wondering about renewals and had almost walked straight into him. She had wanted to get home; he had gotten thoroughly fed up of waiting hours ago. Introductions were short.

 

A body of private individuals from TR-680 were willing to provide funding for continued research into the insects on the condition that the research took a different turn, testing the extent and strength of the insects telepathy.

 

Thalia didn’t think twice before accepting.

 

*****

 

It had taken three years. And the results, ah the results-

 

Encouraged, the least talented of the group was above and beyond every tested Ascendant. But most promising of all, they could link to other species. Her own research team, even humans-

 

How could they have stopped then with the possibility of so much _good_ in front of them?

 

The five females were a blessing beyond words, and if only those talents could be expanded a little further-

 

Ascension was a state of mind, and if that mind could be grown, could be linked, could encompass many minds-

 

With modern technology and a few hundred insects they could Ascend their entire species and the majority of the human race. Take billions of lives from this world of disease, hunger and pain to a better plane.

 

How could they have stopped then? How could they risk becoming the people who _almost_ saved three species?

 

It had been simple to get the funding, to find the experts, to decide on the necessary course-

 

They would encourage the mutation. Encourage the human genetics over the insect and introduce the Ancient.

 

How could they not?

 

She had tried to explain it to her brood. She wasn’t sure they’d understood; she wasn’t sure they were capable of it.

 

It had hurt them. Thalia had stayed as they wailed and screamed in the aftermath. As their mandibles went into necrosis, the sensitive spikes on their back wilted and fell off and their scales flaked away.  

 

She’d had them taken out of the infirmary as soon as possible. She’d slept in the lab.

 

“Want out.”

 

“Are you alright baby?” She asked, letting Alkonost out of the pen.

 

“Hurt.”

 

“I know baby I’m sorry.”

 

“Can’t-”

 

“Can’t what Alkonost?”

 

She’d raised her hands to her face.

 

“Are you hurt baby?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Your face hurts? Your head hurts?”

 

“No.”

 

“Where does it hurt?”

 

“No.” She’d raised her hands again-

 

“What’s wrong Alkonost?”

 

She’d prodded at the ridges along her cheeks.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Gone.”

 

“Your mandibles? Yes baby, I’m sorry.”

 

“Can’t......Gone-”

 

“You can’t......you can’t click anymore? Can’t-” Thalia snapped her fingers.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’m sorry Alkonost. But you can still click though here watch.”

 

She knelt, bringing herself down to the immature insect’s level. Carefully, slowly she opened her mouth, raised her tongue to the roof of her mouth and clicked.

 

The insect smiled. She chirred with pleasure and copied the motion.

 

“!” Thalia said.

 

“! ! !” Alkonost replied.

 

*****

 

The first course had only had a small effect on the target area. The physical effects were quite large, clearly the targeting system was flawed and the wrong sets of genes were being encouraged.

 

They changed the targeting system.

 

Their claws separated into distinct fingered hands. They lost the remainder of their scales. They stood completely upright. They grew hair.

 

They had decided then that working with the genetic material present was not enough; was not producing the desired effect.

 

It is difficult even in animals that have evolved, weathered naturally into a stable shape, to predict whether and how a new gene might be expressed. What it might affect. What it might change.

 

Her insects were unstable mutations, the product of an industrial accident, a Family of local fauna and an undiscovered exposure to-

 

They should have known better.

 

She had tried to explain. Because by then they had understood that when they left the safety of the lab, when they were herded off world through the glowing ring to the other place it hurt. And things fell off. They were afraid.

 

“OK, come here, that’s good. Sit. That’s good, good girls.”

 

Five pairs of smoke-yellow eyes stared up at her. They were older now, may be-

 

“What are rats?”

 

“Food.”

 

“Good Cihuateto, and what happens to food?”

 

A new question. Thalia didn’t pause long to let them ponder it.

 

“You eat food. You have a live rat and you eat the rat and then it isn’t alive anymore. It-” She drew a deep breath.

 

“Rats move. Rats breathe. Rats are alive. Then they’re eaten. Then they don’t move and they don’t breathe. They stop.”

 

Five pairs of corn-yellow eyes blinked, uncomprehending.

 

Thalia sighed, perhaps they just weren’t- no, they were young. That was all. She got up and rummaged in the waste bin until she found the shrivelled husk of a snack.

 

“What thing?” She asked, holding the rat-corpse flat on her hand for them to see.

 

“Rat.” Kivutar answered.

 

“No.” Thalia said.

 

They stared.

 

Miru, the one that had once been the control, clicked to herself, low and fast for almost a full minute.

 

“Want water.” Lasas demanded.

 

“Not now baby. What thing?”

 

“Want water please.” Lasas repeated.

 

“What thing?”

 

“After-rat.” Miru suggested.

 

It was close enough. “Yes, after-rat. When we go, what we do, will stop there being an after-Miru.”

 

“After-Miru?” Alkonost tilted her head to one side.

 

“This- It will mean there’s no after-Miru, no after-Alkonost, no after-Lasas, no after Cihuateto, no after-Kivutar and no after-Thalia.”

 

“After-Miru bad.” Lasas murmured.

 

“Yes. But we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen babies. I promise. Come on.”

 

She had led them to the Gate.

 

*****

 

It had been successful. Months of work that had finally resulted in a substantial increase in telepathic ability with some of the girls showing the additional ability to create mild hallucinations in those around them.

 

For a week it had seemed as though everything was fine. And then-

 

“Want rat.”

 

They had begun, recently to favour their other form of feeding. Thalia had given Cihuateto the rodent. The girl’s hands had closed around it and-

 

Nothing happened.

 

She squeezed harder, the animal squeaked and bit. Cihuateto let it go with a small shriek and it ran. The girl looked up at her appealing.

 

“Hungry.”

 

“I’ll get another one.” Thalia promised.

 

But it happened again.

 

*****

 

She’d taken them off world back to these _specialists_ who did little more than um and ah over scans while _her_ girls shrieked and cried and begged for food.

 

They tried everything. But they couldn’t use their mammalian digestive tract anymore, which may well have been a natural occurrence with age but this-

 

Their feeding had become far more specific, so specific that so far they hadn’t found a single acceptable species and they had tried enough for an entire ecosystem.

 

Just like that they were dying. And there was nothing anyone could do.

 

She had tried to calm them, tried to comfort them. But they were burning inside.

 

“Shhh, shush, that’s good girls. You’ll be ok, I promise. I have to go now. I’m sorry.”

 

“You’ll be in tomorrow?” Kivutar asked.

 

“Yes,” Thalia agreed. “I’ll be in tomorrow.”

 

“I love you.” Miru whispered.

 

“I love you too.”

 

*****

 

They should have known. But it was easy to fall into the same traps as everyone else. Easy to doubt, it was a scientist’s virtue-

 

But surely someone should have guessed.......

 

Someone should have realised before Alkonost had raised a hand to one of the lab’s students, hired to watch them at night. Before that first life was lost under hungry hands.

 

They should have known that Lasas’ grasp of language was good enough to talk their way out of the lab. That Cihuateto’s carefully trained sense of direction was enough for them to find their way out. That Miru was more than intelligent enough to know they should head for the Stargate. That Kivutar had seen them press the buttons on the control console often enough, seen them stand back as the wormhole formed, to guess how to operate the Stargate.

 

And suddenly in a night they were gone. And a war had started silently. By accident. With the best of intentions.

 

“I love you.” Miru had said.

 

And then she’d gone.

 

*****

 

There is a story that Keepers sometimes tell to charges that are of that awkward age, not hatchling or childer. The Wraith are not a poetic people, and they do not believe in protecting their childer from the meaner things in life. And they do not tell food their stories.

 

But this is how a human would tell it.

 

Once long ago there were five sisters, and when they were young they lived on a planet of forests and caves. And while they were young this was enough, they fed as and when they wished, with their hands or their mouths. They never knew hunger, or pain, or fear. And their Queen watched over them.

 

But as time went on they grew discontent and they wished for more. They looked around them and saw that all things died and knew that one day their time would come; they would be another’s meal. They wished to live.

 

So they went to their Queen, and asked her about life and its end. She promised them that they would never die. She told her daughters that they were above the flow of time, their wounds would heal, they would never fall sick, they would never age. They were as eternal as the stars. And for a time they were satisfied.

 

But as their world turned they saw this was a lie. For the earth moved, and the stars changed and even the sun would one day burn out. Time would be their end as it brought an end to all things. They gathered together and went to confront their Queen.

 

They asked her again what would become of them, and she did not answer because she could not bear to think of her own death. To dwell on nothing and the emptiness between the worlds. Her silence and her lies angered her daughters and they fought with her.

 

Their hands touched her chest. And she died.

 

Their hair turned white. Hunger grew sharp within them but when they hunted they found that creatures turned their bloodied hands away and meat turned to dust in their mouths.

 

The Wraith do not believe this story, but it is interesting to note that every living Queen can trace her line back through mothers to one of five sisters, even if they do not believe they exist.

 

*****

 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Examples of animal communication, ie the style that these early Wraith ‘talk’ in, was mostly gleaned from Alex the parrot and Dr Irene Pepperberg. If she’s a fan of SGA then this is happily dedicated to her. 
> 
> The Wraith-girls names were taken from Goddesses of Death and Destruction, found via godchecker- I'm afraid I didn't note where they came from or assign them with any sort of significance, other then sounding good..... Also in my mind Todd is descended from Kivutar, Steve from Lasas.
> 
> Delphinidae are dolphins, Cetaceans the Order that includes whales and dolphins. Hyaenidae are hyena, which are far removed from dogs and wolves (I recommend the work of the MSU Hyena Research Team). Corvidae are the crows among others. Cephalopods include octopodes, which incidentally are an honorary vertebrate according to UK law, meaning that it is illegal to perform certain experiments on them or to use them as live food or bait. 
> 
> Siluriformes are catfish. 
> 
> Catfish are not known for their intelligence. 
> 
> All other groups listed are. 
> 
> The subject of whether animals are capable of language, consciousness, and complex thought is an ongoing debate. As is the subject of intelligence. 
> 
> I don’t mean to suggest that some animals are as intelligent as humans, merely that trying to picture the world as an octopus, as a tactile learner with no sense of where your limbs are, is a difficult and interesting exercise. For a scientific study of how physical adaptions can affect intelligence tests the following article and it's videos of different species using tools is good- http://www.plosone.org/article/info:doi/10.1371/journal.pone.0020231?imageURI=info:doi/10.1371/journal.pone.0020231.t001


End file.
